


Lost & Found

by c000kiesandcream



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Related, It could have happened okay??, Lost dog, Mention of canon dog death, Other, idk - Freeform, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 21:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10259345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c000kiesandcream/pseuds/c000kiesandcream
Summary: Makkachin is on a mission. It's freezing outside, and he wants a cuddle.Of course, he doesn't let Victor in on his plan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this AU](http://for-shou-yo.tumblr.com/post/152291570646/victuuri-au-where-makkachin-runs-off-during-a-walk) but I liked the idea of it being in the Canon.
> 
> This was really nice to write, I say this about all my fics but IDK I just enjoy writing a lot.

‘Victor, I told you already, you can’t keep bringing your dog to every single-’ Yakov was interrupted by a blurry, brown ball of fluff jumping up and down in front of him. He felt warm, soft paws gently pushing against his shirt, begging him to stroke him. Yakov’s expression didn’t change, but he put his hand out to pet Makkachin, ruffling the soft fur behind his ears.

‘Relax, Yakov, he loves the ice, and he loves me,’ Victor zipped up his Russia National Team hoody, and grabbed the lead that was dumped by the door. He clipped it onto the dog’s collar, and took up ruffling his ears as Yakov stepped aside.

‘You know pets are not allowed, they distra-’ Victor had already dashed out the door, jogging along the corridor and into the open elevator.

He jogged on the spot as Makkachin sat, waiting patiently for the doors to ping back open. He looked up at his owner, who smiled down back at him. Victor had never loved anything more than his beloved Makkachin.

The door opened onto an empty hotel lobby. Victor stepped out and looked around, surprised at the lack of people, or paparazzi. Perhaps none of the other skaters had arrived yet.

Pulling his hood over his silver hair, he proceeded to jog slowly along the recently-buffed floor, out the revolving doors, and onto the street. It was the first week of December, and the temperature had dropped well below zero in Sochi, the location of this years Grand Prix Final. Victor pulled his zip right up, slightly regretting not wearing a warmer coat, even though he was pretty well acclimatised to Russia’s winters. He glanced down at Makkachin, who was keeping pace well, even though his paws at least must have been frozen against the icy floor.

Their hotel was right on the sea front, and Victor crossed the street so that he was jogging directly parallel to the sea. He felt the wind immediately increase as he straightened up on the path, blowing under his hood so that it fell back. His hair was already damp from his shower, but the moisture in the salty air stopped it from freezing solid.

He cleared his mind, listening to the sea crashing against the wall below him. The ocean always soothed him, and it wasn’t long before he was jogging in pace with the waves. In, out, in, out, in, out. His breathing matched the rhythm, but after a while his hands started to seize up around Makkachin’s lead.

‘Coffee, darling?’ He looked at his dog, who didn’t seem bothered much by the frost-bite weather. Victor crossed the road again, looping Makkachin’s lead around the pipe that ran down the side of the building, before mussing his ears, which Makkachin loved.

‘I’ll be right back, okay Makkachin?’ Victor smiled at his companion, before pushing open the door to the coffee house. The girl behind the counter looked bored, wiping the side down, before she looked up and froze. Her blonde hair fell over most of her face, but still Victor noticed the red blush that crept up her neck, matching her red lipstick.

‘Hello. I’d like one Chai Latte to go, please?’ Victor asked, smiling, pulling his phone out of his pocket to pay.

Still the girl stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the man in front of her. Victor Nikiforov, 4-time Grand Prix gold medalist, ice skater extraordinaire, worldwide heartthrob, was in the shop. Victor smiled, and waved his hand in front of her face.

‘Hellooo?’ He laughed again, and she snapped out of it, hiding her face with her hair, and clumsily tapping his order into the till.

She spilled the chai powder all over the newly cleaned counters, and drew a little heart beneath Victor’s name on the cup. Her colour hadn’t changed during the whole process, and Victor winked as she handed the cup over.

‘Want a selfie?’ He offered, holding up his phone. She nodded, still speechless, and smiled as Victor snapped a picture of them both with his coffee cup, heart in view.

‘Look out for it later, okay? And wish me luck for Saturday!’ Victor turned and started towards the door, but he froze as he looked out the window.

Makkachin’s lead was there, still attached to the pipe, but the dog was not.

He slammed out of the door, and dropped his cup.

‘Makkachin!’ He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, turning on his heel, looking frantically around the almost empty street.

‘Makkachin!’ he yelled again, heart racing. Makkachin was not familiar with this city, but to a dog perhaps it looks the same as home? He tried to regulate his breathing, and unlooped the lead.

‘Makkachin!’ He continued to yell as he jogged around the block. Victor could smell a vendor selling some fried food, and knew Makkachin couldn’t resist anything deep-fried and delicious. Sadly, the man selling the food had not seen a poodle.

Victor could feel the cold biting his cheeks as he ran through the streets, eventually looping back to the path along the sea front. He turned and looked out along the water, hoping that Makkachin had not been stupid enough to jump into the water. He did hate baths, but he always loved dipping his paws in the ocean. Victor tried not to let the worst idea fill his head, still shouting out to the water.

-!-

The cab pulled up directly in front of the hotel steps, jolting to a halt, and throwing its passengers forward. Yuri hit his head on the passenger seat.

‘Ow,’ he muttered, rubbing his head, looking up from his phone. He caught his coaches eye in the mirror, who grunted at the driver as he paid him. Celestino glanced back at Yuri again in the mirror, smirking slightly as Yuri continued to rub the mark that was blossoming on his brow.

‘Thanks,’ Celestino nodded at the driver again, pushing the stiff door open, and holding Yuri’s door as he climbed out.

Yuri stretched as he stepped out, running his hand through his hair. He’d been sat down for over 18 hours, and he just wanted to sleep off his jet-lag.

He helped his coach unpack the trunk of the car and carry the luggage up the steps. His muscles ached slightly, and continued to stretch his arms out while he waited for Celestino to sort out his room. His phone was in his hand again, in an attempt to keep his eyes open. He was looking through old photos from Hatsetsu, namely those that featured his dog, Vicchan. His mom had called before their flight to say that unfortunately, his heart had gotten weaker, and the most humane thing was to put him to sleep.

He could feel a tear run a track down his cheek, burning the cold skin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, and tapped out a text to his mom, to let her know that he was at the hotel.

Out of nowhere, Yuri felt an almighty force shove him from behind. He fell forward, almost knocking over Celestino, who was debating something with the concierge.

‘Hey!’ Celestino yelled out involuntarily, turning to Yuri and steadying him. They both looked down and saw the flash of brown fur that was running circles around them.

No, it couldn’t be-

‘V-Vicchan?’ Yuri stared in disbelief at the dog at his feet.

‘He sure looks like him, but no, it’s Makkachin. Hey, isn’t-?’ Celestino read the name tag on the dog’s collar, and Yuri nodded.

‘He’s Victor Nikiforov’s dog,’ Yuri muttered, petting the dog, and allowing him to lick his hand. He smiled, but he could feel his chest tightening slightly.

‘Why don’t you go and sit down while I try and figure out why we don’t have food waiting for us?’ Celestino glanced at the man behind the desk again, who had started to argue back.

Yuri turned to the comfortable chairs that were lined in front of the huge windows. They looked inviting, and his legs dragged him over there, while his hand trailed next to him, guiding the dog.

If Makkachin was here, where was Victor?

-!-

20 minutes had passed, and Victor thought it was useless.

Makkachin was gone.

Trying not to panic, but not succeeding, he turned on his heel and jogged back to the hotel. His breathing hitched in his throat, and his fists were clenched as he made his way across the street.

Why did he need coffee? Why did he stop? It’s freezing out here, and it had already started snowing again.

He felt hot tears sting his eyes, as he stopped at the steps of the hotel. Yakov would know what to do. He pulled his phone out as he started up the steps, searching for the best picture of Makkachin to use for the posters.

The revolving doors stuck slightly, causing Victor to look up as he shoved, and that’s when he saw it.

In one of the plush chairs that were scattered around the reception area, sat a boy. His dark, choppy hair was pushed back with his blue-rimmed glasses, revealing his cold-pinched cheeks. His eyes were closed, head tilted back slightly, resting against the back of the low seat. Makkachin was lying with his head on the boy’s knee, who even with his eyes closed was scratching softly at the dog’s plush fur, both breathing softly while they slept.

Victor froze in front of the door, staring at the miracle in front of him. Makkachin was alive! And sitting in this boy’s lap, a boy who he recognised.

The boy blinked and looked down at the dog, who responded to the change of pace with a sigh. The boy hadn’t spotted Victor, who felt even from that distance a sad energy around the boy, who just sighed. Victor stood for a second too long, intrigued, wondering why he couldn’t remember who this was. The sadness made his soft features seem tense. But it didn't stop him from bonding with Makkachin.

Victor eventually snapped out of his trance, and shouted, ‘Makkachin!’, startling both the boy and the dog.

Makkachin jumped up, and ran across the lobby to Victor, who scooped him under his arm and kissed him. He felt as though the heaviness on his chest and shoulders had melted in the warmth of the hotel, and the warmth of the fluff in his arms.

He made his way across the lobby, grinning at the boy, before plopping down in the seat next to him.

‘I am so relieved my naughty, naughty dog found his way back here,’ Victor smiled at the boy, whose cheeks had taken on a slightly deeper shade of pink.

‘Victor Nikiforov,’ he held out his hand to the boy, who just looked at it, then at him, before taking it.

‘I-I know. I’m Yuri Katsuki,’ the boy mumbled, taking Victor’s cold hand in his warm one.

Victor smiled. Now he knew. This was the cute Japanese skater who he had seen on Thai skater Phichit Chulanont’s Instagram feed. He could feel the warmth creeping up his arm, and continued to hold Yuri’s hand.

‘Nice to meet you, Yuri Katsuki.’


End file.
